"The sort of person we need for this job," said the boss finally, "is tough fearless, aggressive, suspicious, distrustful, always on the lookout for trouble and constantly ready to flare into violence. Quite frankly, you don't seem to fit the bill.

"Oh. that is all right," explained Lipy. "I HAVE ONLY COME TO APPLY FOR THE JOB ON BEHALF OF MY Husband."

At a party, the host was getting worried because there were too many people and not enough refreshments. She was sure that not all of these had been invited but didn't know how to tell which ones were the crashers.

Then her husband got an idea. He turned to the crowd of the guests and said, "Will everyone from the bride's side of the family stand up please?" About 20 people stood.

Then he asked, "Will everyone from the groom's side of the family stand up please?"

About 25 people stood up.

Then he smiled and said, "Will everyone who stood please LEAVE... This is a 'Birthday Party'!!!"

Arjun: Hey Vasudev, how can I do the most heinous and unpardonable act of forwarding junk mail that I receive, to my friends, relatives and revered elders?

Krishna: Hey Paartha, at this moment, none of them is your friend or foe, relative or in-law, young or old and good or evil. You have no escape from following your Net-Dharma. Make haste to log on and send off the junk mail to one and all. That is the only Karma expected of you and Dharma you must follow.

Arjun: Hey Murari ! Do not implore me to do something that pricks my conscience and stirs my soul.

Krishna: O Kunti-Puthra, you are caught in the vicious circle of the Maya. In this material world, you are committed to no one except to yourself, your Dharma and your mouse. Junk mails have existed for the last 25 years and will remain long after you are gone. Rise above the Maya and perform your bounden duty.

Arjun: Lord Krishna, pray and enlighten me on how junk mail is related to the Maya.

Krishna: Vatsa, junk mail is the 6th element in the universe - Aap, Vaayu, Jal, Agni, Aakaash and Junk Mail. It is at the same time animate and inanimate, living and dead beat. It overloads the system and fills up the hard disk. But it serves one great purpose. It leads people to believe that they are filling their time in an intellectual pursuit by reading and reforwarding junk mail. It gives them a sense of achievement without investing their intellect and efforts. Like the Atman that leaves one's physical body and moves on to another, the junk mail moves from system to system and never gets deleted or dies.

Krishna: Neither fire can burn it, nor air can evaporate it. Neither can it be conquered nor can it be defeated. Junk mail is omnipresent and immortal like your noble and eternal soul. Unlike an arrow shot from your bow, many a time the junk mail forwarded by you, will even return to you safely after some months or even years, allowing you to re-re-forward it to the same people.

Arjun: Great Saarathi, my salutations to you. You have opened my eyes to the cult of junk mail. I was lost in the Maya and have been reading all the junk mail that I keep receiving and doing no other Karma. Now on, I will just press the "Forward" button without reading any of it and send it to all and sundry, friends and foes, relatives and in-laws, young and old. That will surely bring them to their knees in this epochal battle of Good against Evil, in the Kurukshetra.

Krishna: Arjuna, victory or defeat is not in your hands. Do not ponder over the fruits of your labour. Just keep forwarding junk mail and make one and all go bananas reading it and you will have done your supreme duty. Tathastu.

A young boy from Pune goes off to college. Half way through the semester, having foolishly squandered all his money he calls home.

"Pita ji," he says, "You won't believe what modern education is developing! They actually have a program here in Indian Institute of Management, Ahmedabad (IIMA) that will teach our dog, Moti, how to talk!"

"That's amazing," his father says. "How do I get Moti in that program?"

"Just send him down here with Rs. 1,00,000" the young boy says "and I'll get him in the course."

So, his father sends the dog and Rs. 1,00,000. About two-thirds of the way through the semester, the money again runs out. The boy calls home.

"So how's Moti doing son?" his father asks.

"Awesome, Pita ji, he's talking up a storm," he says, "but you just won't believe this - they've had such good results they have started to teach the animals how to read!"

"Read!?" says his father, "No kidding! How do we get Moti in that program?"

"Just send Rs 2,00,000, I'll get him in the class."

The money promptly arrives. But our hero has a problem. At the end of the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk, nor read. So he shoots the dog. When he arrives home at the end of the year, his father is all excited.

"Where's Moti? I just can't wait to see him read something and talk!"

"Pita ji," the boy says, "I have some grim news. Yesterday morning, just before we left to drive home, Moti was in the living room, kicked back in the recliner, reading The Economic Times, like he usually does. Then Moti turned to me and asked, so, is your father still messing around with that little pretty Champa who lives down the street?"

The father went white and exclaimed, "I hope you shot that son of a bitch before he talks to your Mother!"

"I sure did, Pita ji!"

"That's my boy!"

The kid went on to law school, and now serves in New Delhi as a Member of Parliament.